


The War Between the Heart and the Mind

by dreamboykeith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alt. Universe, Boxer!Lance, Cussing, ER Nurse!Keith, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Keith's kinda emo???, LOTS of violence, Lance knows some emo songs bc he's edgy, M/M, Single Parent Lance, alternative universe, idk what else to tag rn lmao, slight gore, this is my attempt at tagging my shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamboykeith/pseuds/dreamboykeith
Summary: Keith's life was pretty easy going. He'd spend some of his days and nights working in the ER and some days he'd bartend at O'Malleys. With a desperate need for more money to pay off school debt, he begins working for Shiro at an underground boxing ring that he orchestrates. Along the way, Keith must find a way to keep his heart at bay and his mind in charge. It doesn't seem to be going well thanks to a certain boxer with not only money problems, but family problems as well. In the end, who will win the war the heart, or the mind?





	1. the beginning.

“The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.” - Plutarch

***

Lance’s face was covered in sweat. It got into his eyes a little as his bangs stuck to his forehead. He was determined to win this match. His knuckles ached and his muscles burned as he pushed through the pain. His opponent, Rolo, smirked, noticing the beginning of weakness as he pushed Lance into one of the corners. He was hoping to get him nestled in the corner, enough to drop his guard and have enough time for Rolo to deliver his next series of punches. His back hit the ropes, his eyes widening at Rolo’s fist traveling towards his face.

Time slowed down in Lance’s world, slowing enough to find an advantage point, sending a left hook into Rolo’s ribs. Rolo groaned, stumbling back as Lance pushed himself away from the corner. Cheers could be heard from the crowd as their champion began to push back. Once he was far enough away from the corner, he began to pursue Rolo. A knockout will surely make Lance’s night.

Lance sent left and right hooks in Rolo’s direction, switching it up to jabs before he finally got knocked on his ass. Lance quickly jumped on Rolo, his knuckles connected smoothly with Rolo’s face. The more he punched, the more blood began to show up on Rolo’s face. Shiro and Allura pulled Lance off of Rolo, James Griffin holding up Lance’s hand as Rolo’s manager and trainer rush to his aid.

Lance celebrated the victory as a fat stack of cash was handed to Lance. He smiled, blood slightly present in his smile. His knuckles remained bloody as he handled his cash, smiling to himself as he counted it. “Lance, that was a little overboard. Rolo was already down for the count after the fifth time you punched him.”

“How many times did I get him?”

“Seventeen.” Lance nodded, more so to himself than Shiro. He was proud. He unwrapped his bandages slowly, wincing as the pain began to flood to his knuckles. He shook it off, sitting down on the bench in front of a seriously concerned Shiro. “You could’ve killed him tonight, Lance. That’s nothing to be cocky about.”

“I know, I know.” Lance spoke, waving a hand off to Shiro. “Did I look hot though?”

“Sure.” Shiro rolled his eyes, walking away from Lance. Lance sat with himself, still unwrapping his bandages. Hunk sat down next to him, grabbing his wrist lightly as he started unwrapping them for him. He worked gently, trying to make sure that nothing was hurting Lance.

“You’ve got to be more careful. Elias is going to be worried about you.” Lance hissed once Hunk placed the ice pack on his knuckles. Lance sat up more, his shoulder brushing Hunk’s.

“I know, Hunk.” His voice was soft, quiet enough so nobody could hear them. Lance wasn’t one to hide things from people, but this was something he didn't want getting out into the air. He didn’t want anyone to know who Elias was in case they use it against him when they’re trash talking in the ring. “Can you cover for me while I work at Altea tomorrow? They wouldn’t let me take off tomorrow.”

“That’s because you’ve had too many late days and constantly come in to work with bruises. Also, you don’t make coffee very well, you have poor concentration skills, an-”

“Okay, smartass, I get it.” He pushed Hunk with his shoulder, a light chuckle emitting from the back of his throat. He stood up from the bench, ice on one set of knuckles, his wrap still on the other. “Shiro,” he asked, walking over to him. Shiro was talking to Matt, whose stitches seemed to be healing nicely. “Can you sign me up for the next match? I think it’s on Tuesday.”

“Not with those knuckles, no.” Lance’s mouth dropped open. “Lance, you don’t need more scarring on your knuckles. I don’t want them fucked up. You fight every Friday like you’re supposed to and that’s that.”

“Shiro, I need the money."

“I know you do, Lance, but you’re not getting it by overexerting yourself. You know if you need anything you can come to Adam and I.” Shiro spoke, putting his hand on Lance’s shoulders. Lance knew he couldn’t fight anymore this week, but he wanted to. He needed the money more than anything. Not that his day job didn’t pay well, but that his job didn’t pay well enough. With the amount of debt he’s in, he’d need to kill several millionaires.

“Thanks, Shiro.”

“Have Romelle clean you up and then you need to go home, Lance. I’m not kidding this time.” Lance nodded briefly at Shiro, walking towards the bathrooms. Romelle already knew the drill. Nothing about this was new to her. Lance would come and sit in front of her, puppy dog look on his face and beg her to clean him up before he went home. He’d also throw in the occasional flirtatious line or two in there for some extra flare. He never really meant it though. Romelle was like a sister to him.

“Don’t you dare fucking flinch, McClain. I hate it when you do that shit.” Lance laughed, sitting down on a stool in the girl’s bathroom.

“You know I won’t.” Lance soon ate his words. He hissed in pain every time she began to clean a wound. Nothing hurt more than the one on his eyebrow though. He was a little disappointed. Out of all the things to ruin, his eyebrows had to go first.

Lance was lucky, though. He never needed surgery to repair anything. He was one of the few who didn’t need much of anything to fix his face. Lance was an absolute star in the ring. Everyone adored him, boys and girls alike. He was smooth and moved around the ring like silk. Although, there were still some people who didn’t like Lance because he was so cocky. He would always shit talk his opponent and get them riled up so they made mistakes which would inevitably cause them to lose the match.

“How’s Elias doing?”

“He's doing good... really good. Listen, can you cover… for me tomorrow? Please?” He asked, his voice real low, his arm gripping hers hard. She looked into his eyes and sighed. “Please, Ro, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“I guess I could. But you have to show the newbie around tomorrow night. Shiro brought in someone to clean you guys up instead of me. I have an actual job I need to be at whenever they need me. I can’t do this whole… _thing_ anymore.”

“Will you still come down and watch a fight or two? I always do better when you’re watching.” A relentless wink was shot in her direction.

“Fuck off, McClain.” Romelle joked, and pushed his shoulder back with her hand. He winced a little at the contact, his shoulder a little sore from fighting so hard. “Say you’ll show the newbie around.”

“Fuck, okay. I will.”

“Then I’ll cover for you.” She smiled, taking his chin in her hands. His face was squished just a bit, which, again, hurt more than anything. Rolo, although a little hot headed at times, had a really wicked left hook. “Don’t be late tomorrow night or I’ll have to kill you myself. I’m not kidding, Lance.”

“I know. Shiro’ll probably kill me too.”

***

Keith was lucky he worked the day shift today. His ass was beat by the time he finished at midnight, and he was thankful for the handful of times his coworkers would let him leave early. Those days usually end up being Keith’s hardest. At times, he’s had to alert families about the death of their relatives or even the sudden comatose state of them. Sometimes it’s just so intensely hectic that it feels like Keith can’t breathe. And it’s not just because of his asthma. “Hey Kogane, can you go check on the patient in room E3?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” He made his way swiftly through the halls, checking the door number before walking in there. “Hi there, Mr. Ellison. Everything okay this afternoon?”

“Please, call me Tony.”

“Tony, then. You alright? Feeling dizzy, nausea, headache?” Keith looked over his chart, finding that he had suffered from a concussion. Tony told Keith he didn’t feel anything, just that he wished the hospital had better flavors of jello. “I feel you there. We’ll keep checking in every once in a while with you, just seeing how you’re doing. We might wake you up a few times during the night. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you have to do. I just want to get back home to my wife.”

“We’re doing everything we can to make sure it’s quick.” He nodded towards Tony and left after offering him good flavored jello when Keith comes back in tomorrow morning. When Keith leaves Tony Ellison’s room, he’s greeted by one of the other ER nurses. “What’s up?”

“You’ve got another quick patient before you punch out. Just some stitches and a possible splint. Room A5.” Keith nodded, checking his watch. 11:57, he huffed. He walked into room A5, clipboard in hand. He recognized the name.

“Why is it when I’m almost done working, you two find a way to come bother me?” Keith chuckled, looking up from the clipboard, immediately redacting his statement. There in front of him sat Matthew Holt with his face bruised, blood running down his face from the few cuts to his eyebrow, forehead and chin. He had a bloody, damp rag held to his head by Shiro, who’s other hand was occupying a phone.

“Pidge, I know… I get it, okay?... He’s a grown ass man, he can take care of himself…” Shiro sighed, nodding slowly, although the person on the other end of the line wouldn’t know. “Look, we’re in the ER at Garrison Memorial, how fast can you get here?” He hung up, looking at Keith with relief. “He was against a Galran boxer this time. Fucking s something.”

“Shiro, I don’t need to know. I just need you remove the rag. I gotta see his cuts.” Matt winced as Shiro removed the rag gently from his forehead. Keith looked at the cuts, sighing. “You’re so lucky all you need is stitches, Matt. A few inches deeper and your frontal would’ve been cracked or impacted. I fucking told you to stop boxing.”

“Can’t help it, Keith. It’s like an addiction, you know? Once you start you can’t—ow fuck, Keith.”

“You should know by now how much this hurts, Matt. I’m upset with both of you.” Keith’s eyes strayed from the gash on Matt’s forehead to Shiro. Once he sterilized the wound, he began prepping for stitches. Someone stomped in while Keith was busy stitching Matt up.

“Are you a fucking idiot?” The voice of who Keith assumes is Pidge yells, arms crossed over their chest. “Do you have any idea what mom and dad are going to think? This is your eighth stitching this month!”

“Yeah, yeah, Pidge, I know.” Matt shrugs off what Pidge is saying. Keith doesn’t pay attention to the noise coming from Pidge, Matt and Shiro. Keith had come by the gym many times over the past couple of months since Adam had become a doctor. Adam, who was Shiro’s boyfriend, used to do all the stitching and healing. Once he became a doctor, he told Shiro he’d have to find someone else. His time wouldn’t necessarily be his own anymore. “If you need anymore stitches, wait until I get home. I had three minutes left, I could’ve stitched you up in my apartment.”

“I know, Keith. ‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you came to the hospital for once.” Keith chuckled, his poked out from his bottom lip once he stopped chuckling. He could feel eyes on him, watching his every move as he finished stitching up Matt. He took off his gloves quickly, washing his hands with warm soap and water. “I’ll check on them in four to five days, six at the most. They won’t come out on their own, so I’ll have to remove them the next time I see you.”

“Thanks, Keith.”

“Take good care of him you two,” Keith speaks, directing his words towards Pidge and Shiro. “No fighting for the rest of the week. You could bust open your stitches and I think you remember _very well_ what happened last time. You know the drill about pain relief, I’m not going to bother telling you. Now, I’m going to clock out and I will meet you back at the house in the morning, Shiro. Night guys.”

The “night” coming from the group was collective. He hands Matt’s clipboard to one of the other ER attendees, rubbing his face with his hands. He clocked out, saying a quick goodbye to everyone who was there. “Keith, do you maybe want to go grab a drink or something?”

“Sorry, Nyma, you’re wonderful and all. You’re just not my type.”

“What’s your type?” She asked, slightly clueless.

“Penis. Have a good weekend.” He left quickly, almost quickly enough for his asthma to become a slight problem. He sat in his car, laughing to himself. He started it up, sighing once he realized it wouldn’t. He got out, his hair and scrubs getting soaked in the rain. Pidge and Shiro noticed the struggle as Keith lifted the hood of his car.

“Can’t start it?” Shiro’s smooth voice cut the rain out of his ears. He shook his head no, then stepped back from his car while Shiro took his place. He wasn’t paying attention to anything Shiro was saying or doing. He really wasn’t that into cars, his adoptive father never really taught Keith how before he died. Shiro was the only one who was taught how. “You should be all good now. Try starting her up again.”

“Thanks.” He spoke quietly when Shiro’s arms placed themselves on his door. “See you at the gym, right? You still want me to come, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Romelle was going to show you around but she’s not coming in tonight. Someone else will. Just get there as soon as you can, I don’t mind if you change before then.”

“Nah, I’ll go straight there and change. It’s not like I have anything better to do.” He could sleep. Sleep was something better he could do. Shiro nodded and began to jog back to Pidge’s car to help Matt get situated.

The drive to the gym wasn’t long, but it wasn’t quite short. A twenty minute drive with the best playlist known to man was quite the ride. The entire time classical music played, snippets of Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Vivaldi clearing his head of what he had seen at the hospital. The street lights were the only thing illuminating the way towards the gym itself. There weren’t too many lights on the outside of the building, which was slightly dingy due to the fact that it’s considerably old. Its interior wasn’t like the outside at al. In all its glory, the walls were coated in fresh coats of paint almost every summer and the lights were replaced anytime they burnt out or were becoming dim. The ring in the middle of the building was painted with stains from previous fights, some of which ended in serious hospitalizations. It was relatively warm in the gym, everyone busy punching open punching bags. Keith easily found Shiro, his patch of white fluffy hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd.

“Hey, Keith!” He smiled lightly at Shiro, a little out of his element. “You’re just in time. There’s no fights tonight, but I figured you’d want to look around the building to get used to it. Let Lance know if you have any questions.” 

“Lance? I thought you were showing me around.”

“I can’t. Romelle was going to, but she had some other business to attend to. Think you can handle being shown around by Lance?”

“Shiro, I’m not five years old, I can handle myself.” Shiro rolled his eyes, nodding slightly, knowing full well what was going to happen. Lance walked over towards them, bruises incredibly visible on his face. The loose tank top he was wearing showed off a little bit of his obliques, the various cuts and bruises around the are. The maroon color of the tanktop and the grey color of his sweatpants looked so good against his skin. Keith thought he was going to pass out.

“I’m Lance. I’m guessing you’re our new doctor.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“There’s a few things you should know before you officially start. There’s a first aid kit and shit in the ladies’ bathroom. You’ll do mostly everything in there. Everyone uses the guy’s bathroom anyways. You can be as noisy as you want, we probably won’t hear you anyways. Don’t stitch up people unless they desperately need it, not all of us want incredibly ugly scars.”

“Stitch scars aren’t ugly when done the right way.” Keith spoke, eyes never meeting Lance’s. Lance didn’t say anything. He figured there was some truth to what Keith was saying, he just didn’t want to believe it. Lance was stubborn in that way and it didn't take Keith very long to notice that.  
  
“Now, do you wanna see your headquarters or?”

“Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you.”

“You don't need to use your manners, nurse boy.” Keith’s cheeks heated to a dull pink. Lance led him into the women’s bathroom and it looked just as dirty as Keith thought it would. Blood stains were also littering the floor as well as a little bit of the walls. It matched the ring so well. Lance leaned up against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “We don’t have any fights lined up tonight, but you never know who will cut their shit on what.”

One of the other boxers Keith had seen on his tour burst into the door, blood dripping from his forehead. He sat down on the stool in the middle of the room. Lance chuckled, leaving Keith with, “Good luck, nurse boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems like Keith and Lance aren't really Keith and Lance, but I promise it gets better. Oh, and as a side note, this is my first ever Klance fanfiction. I'm really trying here, so thank you for reading. I have a tumblr and an instagram, they are both @angellnce. I reblog Voltron things sometimes, usually textposts that are "relatable". On Instagram, I'll begin to post something on there. I don't even know. And hey, don't ever be afraid to start a conversation! I'm really nice, I promise. Again, thank you for reading. It does mean a lot to me.
> 
> As for the number of chapters, I'm shooting for seventeen, but I'm not entirely sure yet. I hope to hit that though. Enjoy the rest of Keith and Lance's paths unfold and stay tuned for chapter two!
> 
> ⇾ livvy


	2. the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is kind of a mess??? oh well. merry christmas, happy kwanzaa, and happy hanukkah (i hope i spelt those right???) or whatever you celebrate. lets bring in some positivity with the new year! i will try to post chap 3 asap to help forget the garbage that is this chapter. you're welcome. have a wonderful holiday season and may you not be annoyed with the obscene amount of family or christmas songs.

"It's the unknown that draws people." - E.A. Bucchianeri, _Brushstrokes of a Gadfly_.

***

To say Lance was having a bad day was the understatement of the year. He'd been burned, yelled at and pushed all within the span of thirty minutes. He felt off, his hands shielding him from the punches coming from one of Zarkon's gym minions. Mindless drones, more like. However, Zarkon never showed up for any of the fights, but his son, Lotor, always did.

Lotor was well known around the community in many different ways. Part of it was for being the CEO's son. As a front for their boxing ring, Zarkon also owned a law firm in the business areas. Otherwise he was known around the ring for being an utter brat. He only won matches because everyone was intimidated by his father, it had nothing to do with him. Especially with that stupid strand of hair that never went with the flow of the rest of his hair. If he wasn't such a brat, Lance would probably give him a chance. But he is upsettingly a spoiled brat. And Lance had already made that mistake.

A blow landed to the left side of his jaw. He didn't have time to groan before the next punch was thrown. He was able to block it in time, but he still had to catch his breath, chest heaving slightly. Though he stood his ground, finding the perfect place to plant his feet, immediately regaining focus. He saw the next punch coming for his stomach, where he counterattacked with a punch to the left side of his head, which was left unprotected. It knocked his opponent back, stumbling as his vision went fuzzy.

He needed this fight. He needed to win this. Not for himself, he'd won many for himself before. This was different. This fight in particular was worth a lot of money, some of which would go to Shiro if he won, as usual. He needed to win this for his family. They needed this win more than anything. He pushed through the fight, the single flame in his belly turning into an entire forest fire.

The fight lasted another two minutes, a dimly illuminated power struggle between the two boys. Lance won, a significantly red face smirking a little as the referee held his hand up. The red of his face was blood, mostly underneath his skin, but some had dripped down to his cheeks from yet another cut to the eyebrow. Lance's eyebrows were so fucked up from boxing, there was no way in hell they would ever grow back to the way they were before.

He sauntered over to the women's bathroom, sitting on the little stool the gym had given Keith. Keith was cleaning his instruments, back turned towards Lance. "Hey, nurse boy. You gonna clean me up or what?"

"You don't want an infection, do you?" Lance huffed out a quick 'guess not' and let Keith start wherever he wanted. He was about to touch Lance before he quickly asked, "You mind?"

"No, go ahead." Lance was slightly taken aback, nobody had asked for permission to touch his face before. He stayed quiet, his stomach a little unsettled. He needed noise right now. He couldn't handle the silence. His voice came out slightly squeaky, internally cringing at himself as he spoke. "So, uh.. How was your day?"

"Not too bad. The ER was not as busy as it usually is on Friday's. Most people try something new on Friday's and end up in by me. There was one guy who had his friend staple playing cards to his body. Took twenty minutes to remove all the staples and about five covering them all up with bandaids. A woman came in with a huge gash on her leg; her nine year old son had gotten a hold of the lawnmower. Don't ask me how."

Keith continued on about his day, listing the amount of laundry he had to do because one of the housekeepers on the floor had gotten sick. He told Lance he didn't know how blankets could get so dirty if people aren't doing anything but lying there. The uneasiness in Lance's stomach had begun to settle a little. It no longer felt like something was scratching at the surface, but rather a slight movement of something being there. Lance just didn't know what.

The hand on Lance's side didn't go unnoticed. Keith had periodically been eyeing it, wondering what happened. He never watched any of the fights, he wasn't one for violence. Keith bit at his lips, trying to keep himself from saying anything to Lance. He could tell Lance was having a little trouble breathing though. "You alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Lance answered, snapping out of his daze. Keith stared intently at Lance, who was slightly becoming uncomfortable. Keith's stare was only to get Lance to admit he was hurt. "Fuck. Okay, he got me real good in the ribs, but it doesn't hurt okay?"

"May I check it out anyways?" Lance nodded lightly, removing his hand from his side. Keith asked Lance if he could remove Lance's robe. He nodded as he tried his best to extend his arms. Keith was very gentle with Lance and focused heavily on removing the garment without hurting Lance at all. Usually he would cut it, but he figured Lance would want it still. Keith didn't bother putting gloves on.

"What're you doing back there, staring?" Lance asked, smirk still on his face.

"You have a lot of scars, Lance." Keith's voice was soft, but it carried. Lance's head turned around to face Keith.

"So what?" Lance went to grab his shirt from the sink, but stopped when Keith's hands touched the skin. His hands weren't as cold as he imagined them to be. He figured all doctor's hands were supposed to be cold, like it was a job requirement or something. He swallowed thickly, a small lump in his throat forming.

Keith didn't ask, he didn't want to know where most of them came from. They could be past memories flooded with pain and nightmares. He stopped touching them and assisted Lance in sitting up straight. Lance winced, his voice hushed out by the drowning noise of the base from the music in the gym area. One of his ribs was surely broken. "There's not much that I can do externally. I'm just going to wrap it, is that okay?"

Lance nodded while Keith waited for his response. He grabbed the roll of gauze and asked Lance to raise his arms as high as he could. Keith tried to do it as quickly and gently as he possibly could. He apologized as frequent as Lance hissed in pain.

Keith hummed, he really couldn't stop himself. It wasn't along to the song that was playing outside of the bathroom. Lance chuckled, knowing exactly what song it was. It reminded him of his high school years. "I figured you'd be the type of guy to listen to Panic! At the Disco."

"Northern Downpour is a good song, don't you dare judge me." Keith bantered back, slapping Lance lightly on the arm. But he quickly apologized when Lance hissed at the contact, foiling Keith into thinking that he had hurt him. "Fucking dick."

Lance and Keith said goodbye briefly before Lance returned home. He was welcomed by a silent apartment, lights dim as the babysitter slept on the couch. Lance wouldn't wake him up, but leave him a note saying thank you with a sixty dollar tip as well as the standard pay. Luna, his babysitter, always stayed so late and never complained once. She was honestly a lifesaver. Without Luna, Lance wouldn't be able to support himself and Elias.

Keith's day, however, wasn't quite over yet. After cleaning up the men's room, he headed over to O'Malley's where he's immediately welcomed by none other than James Griffin.

James didn't like Keith, but he didn't hate him either. They had known each other since high school where they hated each other more than anything. Once they had both gotten into med school, they decided to be equals rather than waste energy hating one another. In other words, they were acquaintances. "Where have you been? You're two minutes late, Kogane."

"Fucking your dad, Griffin." Keith called out sing-songingly. He hurried behind the bar, smoothening out his black t shirt before throwing a towel over his shoulder. "Hey, Curtis."

"Hey Keith, how was work tonight?"

"Pretty good. Some fucking idiot stapled a deck of cards to himself. I swear, kids these days are just getting dumber and dumber."

"They're bored, what else can they do?"

"I don't know, find a hobby like the rest of us?" Curtis laughed, knowing Keith was right. Keith and Curtis worked alongside each other, taking drink orders as fast as they were dishing them out. It wasn't too particularly busy tonight, but it wasn't their usual slow day.

Adam and Shiro walked in twenty five minutes after Keith's shift started. Their giggling caught Keith's attention. They sat at the bar, laughter still being shared between the two. "I didn't expect you out so late, Adam."

"I can live a little every once in a while. Plus, I'm finally not on call. I don't have any surgeries scheduled for tomorrow so I'm officially off the hook."

"You must be excited to have a day to yourself with Shiro, huh?" Curtis asked, hands busy drying one of the many glasses that had been cleaned. The bar had gotten uncharacteristically quiet. Keith settled the uneasiness with talk about the ER, diving, once again, into the story about the boy who stapled cards to himself. It made Adam laugh, although the uneasiness in Shiro hadn't settled. He wasn't entirely convinced it would.

"There was one surgery I was scrubbing in for where this woman had swallowed an entire collection of Barbie doll heads. She also had a Barbie doll body lodged in her rectum for some odd reason. I didn't ask why, but I was certainly curious." Keith laughed, chipping in that she might be a good match to his Card Boy.

Scattered conversation went on for hours between the three of them. Four, if you counted when Curtis would make everyone uncomfortable and even other patrons of the bar recoil back to the tables.

Curtis, Adam and Shiro had history. Shiro used to go out with Curtis before he had met Adam. When Adam was in his final years of med school, he had asked Shiro out on a date. It was very 'The Notebook'-esque. It was quite romantic actually, despite the fact that Shiro broke up with Curtis to go out with Adam.

"How's your star boxer otherwise?"

"Lance? He's fantastic. Almost lost tonight but ended up pulling through. He sure is a fucking trooper." Shiro chuckled, sipping on his coffee. He wasn't one for drinking, an old friend of his had gotten in an accident after driving home drunk. "After what's been happening to his family lately, I'm surprised he still fights."

"Well, each fight is a shit ton of money, Shiro. It's pretty understandable." Adam spoke, hand occupied by a beer, the other one resting on Shiro's knee.

"What happened to Lance's family?" Keith asked, curiosity getting the best of him. The rag he had on his shoulder was removed, Keith's hand cleaning up a spill by some overly drunk college kid.

"I think it's best you hear it from him. It's not really my place to tell." Shiro spoke softly, words barely heard over the commotion inside the bar. _Oh, so you can talk about Lance's family and their hardships but you can't tell me what's going on, okay. Makes sense_. Keith left it alone, going back to working.

Keith didn't end up back at his apartment until five fifty three that morning. He was groggy and barely awake. His eyes were shut most of the way, sleep sounded so amazing. The feeling of his bedsheets had never been more soft, more comfortable. He dropped his bag off at the threshold of his bedroom, legs barely making it to bed before collapsing under him, body landing on the bed, head missing the pillow by a few inches.

The sound of his phone chimed with the text signal. He pulled it out of his back pocket, groaning as he turned to lay on his side. 

**FROM SHIRO:**  
Lance asked for your phone number.  
I gave it to him, I hope that's okay.

 **TO SHIRO:**  
It's whatever I guess  
Don't really care anyways  


Lance wanted his number? Why the fuck would _Lance_ want his number?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear to GOD it gets better from here,,, im new so im a little shitty at this, to be honest with you. oh and s8???? a bit of a mess but i overall liked it????? like there were definitely bad things abt it lol but there were some decent times. anyways,,, dm with your opinion on s8! you can reach me on these platforms:  
> tumblr - angellnce  
> instagram - angellnce  
> wattpad - angellnce (you can find the story on here as well)
> 
> ☾ livvy


	3. the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s chapter three!! i wrote 94% of this watching bandersnatch. stefan and colin are wonderful, i love the movie, and i even started watching black mirror because of it. anyways, enjoy!!

"I'd tell you not to swoon, but he'd catch you, so nevermind." - Kelly Moran,  _ Counterbalance _ .   
  
***

  
Lance's mornings seemed to never go as smoothly as hoped. This morning in particular, Elias seemed to warmer than usual. He called his sister, Veronica, who reassured him that Elias was fine. Lance wasn't convinced. He didn't call into work sick, but fuck, he really wanted to.   
  
Instead he showed up early, hoping that good behavior would be rewarded with an early release. It wasn't so easy. Allura was impressed, welcoming Lance with a warm smile. "I'm glad you're here early. We've got quite a busy day ahead of us. We're still planning for the Charity Ball in a few weeks. We want to make sure everything is ready."   
  
"How much have we gotten so far? In terms of catering, venue, music." Lance asked, fixing the buttons on his shirt. Since he was in a hurry to get Elias to the daycare that morning, he had messily buttoned his shirt and missed a few altogether. Allura didn’t notice, answering Lance’s question with a yes to everything except for the food. “If you wouldn’t mind my input, I do know someone who makes some really good food. Maybe sometime this week for lunch we could go? I think you’d really like their food.”

“I suppose we could go. I don’t have a lunch meeting today, would it be alright with you if we went today?” Allura asked, walking into the elevator with Lance following behind. 

“Not at all, Ms.”

“Lance, we’ve been working together for two years. You can call me Allura.” Lance smiled at her, pressing the button to the twenty-seventh floor. The ride to the top was silent. Lance took out one of the phones Allura had given him to keep in contact with her, noticing a message from the daycare. 

  
  
  


**FROM: LAUREN (DAYCARE)**

Hey Lance! We thought you’d wanna know that Elias seems to have run a fever. We know you’re busy at work, so we called Luna to come pick him up. 

  
  
  


Shit. He knew he should’ve stayed home. He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Allura didn’t want to ask, but she was curious. “Everything alright, Lance?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” Lance spoke, trying to focus on the job at hand. Allura’s stare became gradually uncomfortable. “It’s my son. He’s got a fever, and he’s never really gotten sick before. At least, not since he was a baby.”   


“If you’d like to go home, Lance, you can. I don’t mind you taking the day off.” She spoke, elevator dinging. “I didn’t know you had a son.”

“It’s not really common knowledge. I don’t usually go around telling people I have a kid.” Lance spoke, stepping out of the elevator with Allura. “Is it alright if I go home at lunch? I want to help as much as I can here before I go.”

“That’s alright with me. Just make sure to stop by before you go.” Allura nodded towards Lance, heading off into her office. Lance was thankful for Allura. Not only for her kindness with Elias, but also to have his own office. At other assisting jobs he had, he’d never been given his very own office.

His head throbbed from the sheer amount of cash the florist was demanding from the company for their services. Yes, he understood just how many bouquets and shit they were asking for, but this was just plain thievery! If Lance only knew what he would get himself into when he applied.

Lance didn’t really know what Altea Inc. was when he applied. He knew it was a significantly important part of the city, the highest building you could see that seemed to stretch into the clouds. He knew he was applying for an assistant’s job, but he had no fucking idea what they did here.

The first week was rough. The entire time Allura and Coran had him on his toes. Constantly asking for coffee, lunch, and sometimes even dinners if their schedules were packed that tight. His shirts had sweat stains the size of an elephant. His forehead broke out so terribly from his bangs sticking so much, and from stress, most likely.

Once he had gotten the swing of it, Allura and Coran introduced him to more. First it was little snippets of meetings they’d need him to transcribe and put into very detailed folders, dated and time stamped. He didn’t quite understand what they were talking about, business terms had always flown over his head. He was never good at that kind of stuff.

Almost a year in they had fully accepted Lance into their inner workings. The company had different branches, some of them were smaller law firms on retainer in case the other, smaller companies ever got into financial troubles, but also worked on cases of their own. They’re much like Nestle, the largest food company in the world.

By the time Lance looked at the clock, lunch had passed and his headache with the florist had grown. It was two o’clock, meaning he was pretty much free to go, he just had to check in with Allura. Once he packed everything up, her office was the first place he went. “Hey, Allura?”

“I suppose this is you leaving for the day.” She spoke, turning her direction away from the computer. Lance nodded, shoving his hands inside his pockets.

“Uh, yeah. I really want to see Elias.” He cleared his throat, he didn’t know into Allura’s office often. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed, he never felt comfortable. It was kind of like someone’s bedroom. You don’t go in unless you’re a parent or you’re invited. Lance’s family didn’t really know that concept, privacy.

“Well, I hope everything is okay. If he’s still sick tomorrow, as he might be, you can take the day off. We won’t lose any progress over the charity event while you’re gone. However, would you mind if I went to your friend’s business to check out his food for the event?”

“Not at all, I wrote his phone number down in my notes about the florist. It should be on a pink sticky note. His name’s Hunk Garrett, and he makes the best food in the universe.”

“That’s good.” Allura paused, returning to work for a moment before looking back at Lance. “You may go now, you don’t have to wait for me to dismiss you. Your son needs his father right now.”

“Thank you, Ms. Allura.” Lance practically ran out of the building. Once he was safely in his car, seatbelt, he practically sped home to see his son. Not only his son, but also make sure Luna leaves. She didn’t need to get sick either.

“Lance, he’s fine. It’s just a routine cold. I don’t think it’s anything serious.” Luna spoke quietly, leaning against the doorframe of Elias’ bedroom. Lance bit at his nails, worry overcoming every emotion.

“I know I’m probably overreacting.” Lance’s voice was soft, but it carried. Lance knew it probably wasn’t anything serious. People get sick sometimes, but this was his son they were talking about. He would do anything and everything for him. “But if his fever gets any higher than one hundred, I’m going to the ER.”

“He’ll be alright, Lance. He’s a tough little guy.” Lance looked at Luna and smiled. “Plus, he’s got the world’s greatest dad.”

“Thanks, Lu. I’ll call you if he gets worse.” Lance pulled her in for a hug, thanking her. She said a quick goodbye before heading off.

  
  
  


**FROM: SHIRO**

You’re next fight is with Lotor, but it’s not for a couple weeks though. You don’t have any other fights lined up until then. You should probably start training now.

  
  
  


Lance checked on Elias’ temperature every time he woke up. It had finally reached a hundred after six o’clock. The ride to the ER was short. Well, that isn’t a complete lie. It was short because Lance was speeding. While carrying a sleeping Elias in, he ran into someone he didn’t expect. “Nurse boy? Didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s a hospital. I’m a nurse. I have to work somewhere, right?”

“Ha ha ha, very funny. I need help.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Elias, he’s run a bad fever. I don’t really know what to do, he’s sleeping a lot, he’s not eating much.” Keith brings Lance into one of the rooms there, letting him lay Elias on a bed.

“Lance, he probably has the flu, okay? He’ll be fine, but he needs a couple of days.” Keith tells Lance quietly, wrapping the stethoscope back around his neck. “Just make sure he drinks a lot. And eats what he can. Has he thrown up at all?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, no.” Lance starts biting on his nails, at his fingers. He’s nervous. It’s radiating off of him. “I’m really scared here, Keith. It’s never gotten this bad. I know I’m over exaggerating and stuff, but I don’t wanna go home unless I know he’s actually 100% okay, you know? I’m not good at this whole dad thing.”

Keith wasn’t sure what to do. The hospital wouldn’t let them stay unless absolutely necessary.

“Look, you can’t stay the night here, but maybe you would still feel safe at my apartment? You don’t have to oblige just because the option’s there, but I can monitor Elias there, teach you a few things along the way.” Lance’s eyes were filled with such an intense amount of worry.

“You’d do that?” Lance asked, voice quiet and careful so as not to wake up Elias. Keith nodded, bottom lip slightly being taken hostage of by his teeth. “That’s… really nice of you. Thanks.”

“I can see how much he means to you, Lance.” Keith let his hand rest on Lance’s shoulder for a moment before retracting it. “Uh, here are the keys to my apartment. I’ll write down my address for you.”

“Keith, I have your number.”

“Oh. Right, Shiro told me you asked for it. Just, uh, text me and I’ll text it to you.” Within minutes, a text came through to Keith’s phone, and sure enough, Lance had texted him. Lance called him nurse boy once again, asking for his address with a bunch of smiley and winking faces. “And now you have it. Go there and make yourself at home. I’ll be there around eleven thirty, shift’s ending early tonight.”

“Thanks, Keith. I’ll… uh, I’ll see you at home then?” He scratched the back of his neck as Keith nodded. He wouldn’t see Lance for while. It was nine o’clock when he finally got around to discharging Lance, which should’ve only taken a few minutes, but Lance wanted to stay as much as he could.

Keith made sure to have Lance take Elias’ temperature every hour to track how it fluctuates. Keith was going to make Lance the best flu expert out there in the history of Dads.

When Keith walked into his apartment, the television was on, but the volume was down and Lance sat in the chair biting his nails, eyes looking over to Elias every now and then. He made sure to set his stuff down quietly, grabbing a glass of water. He stood next to Lance, hands shoved in the pockets of his mint green scrubs. His white coat had been hung on one of the bar chairs, ID badge still clipped to it. Lance whisper yelled, heart over his chest, “Jesus, fuck, you scared me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay, you just gave me a damn heart attack. I actually felt my heart fall out of my ass.” Keith chuckled, being careful to not wake the sleeping boy. “Has he drank anything since you guys left? Water, milk…”

“Yeah, a bit of water here and there. I didn’t want to raid your fridge without asking.” Lance admitted, arms folded, resting on his knees. He sighed, attention shifting from the television screen, which held the characters of  _ Lilo & Stitch _ .

“You felt uncomfortable enough to not raid my fridge, but use my Netflix? I can’t believe I let a ruffian like you into my home.” Keith joked, crossing his arms over his chest. Lance giggled and pushed his arms. All jokes were tossed aside when Elias stirred, wiping his eyes with his little kid hands.

“Daddy?” Elias asked, sitting up on the couch by himself. Lance rushed over in a second, arms laying loosely on the couch on either side of Elias. “Water?”

“What do we say?”

“Please?” Please ended up sounding like ‘peas’ and Keith’s heart melted. Never had a kid melted his heart the way Elias did. Maybe it was the way Elias looked at Lance like he was the greatest thing in the world when Lance brought him water. Or maybe it was the fact that the mess of curls atop his head matched perfectly with the strategically perfect, imperfect placement of freckles on his face. Let’s not forget, unlike his dad, Elias had big, beautiful brown eyes.

Elias fell back to sleep within twenty minutes after drinking some water and getting his temperature taken. Lance’s arms wrapped around him securely, head resting on Elias’ as best as possible. Elias listened to his dad’s heartbeat, payed attention to every rise and fall of his chest before he finally drifted. His dreams were filled with flying lions and universes that needed saving.

“You can put him in my bed if you want.”

“Keith, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s okay. There’s more room for the both of you in there anyways.” Keith shrugged, the couch wasn’t entirely bad, but he’d rather sleep in the bathtub than sleep on the couch. Lance agreed, hesitantly at first. He wasn’t sure how to react to Keith giving up his bed so easily for a three year old with a fever and some guy he barely knew besides stitching him up a few times. “I’ll grab you guys some more pillows, hold on a second.”

Lance was grateful. Nobody really helped with Elias, besides those at the daycare and Luna. Of course, Lance never asked for help. It wasn’t fair, it didn’t seem fair. His family was already suffering enough as it is, they didn’t need another mouth to feed, or another kid to watch. “I really mean it when I say thank you, Keith.”

“I know.” Keith watched as Lance tucked Elias into bed, whispering in his ear something.

“Thank you.” Elias tried his best to speak loudly, a warm smile erupting on Keith’s face. Keith told Elias that he was welcome to come play anytime he wanted. Lance stayed by Elias until he fell asleep, Lance’s voice lulling him to sleep. Keith’s heart did jumping jacks. Eventually Lance left Elias’ side, standing next to Keith in the door frame.

The silence seemed to stand against the testament of time. Never varying, the only sound that either of them could hear was breathing.

“I was seventeen.” He broke the silence. His eyes fluctuated between Keith and his son. He noticed the mood in the room had shifted, feeling Keith’s eyes stare him down. Not in the threatening way, but in a curious sense. “I was reckless and irresponsible. We didn’t use protection and all of a sudden we’re parents.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s none of my business.”

“I want you to know.” Lance whispered, eyes beginning to water. “I was eighteen when Elias was born. I wasn’t there for the birth because Nadia, his mother, didn’t allow me to. A few months later, Elias was on my doorstep. Nadia gave up parenting. Figured I could handle it ‘cause I’ve got a big family and all. I moved out as soon as I could. We’ve got lots of debt, my family. We almost lost our house a few times. That’s why I box at night, and work at Altea during the day. Every cent I earn from boxing goes straight to my parents. The rest that comes from Altea is for Elias and I. I’m all he’s got, Keith.”

“You’ve got me now. I’ll be his family.” He blurted. Although a rushed declarative promise, he meant every word. “I mean, if you want. I don’t mean to impose.”

“No, I know. That… that would be really nice, yeah. It really means a lot.” A few tears fell from Lance’s face. Keith’s subconscious took over, hand flying up to wipe them away. The first thing he noticed when he touched Lance’s face was how soft and warm his skin was. When he realized what he had done, he pulled away his hand, almost too quick.

“Sorry.” Keith’s cheeks heated, tinting to a light pink, but his ears burned a bright red, thankfully hiding behind his raven hair. Keith wasn’t the only blushing, however. Once Keith had walked away, retiring himself into the bathroom for a moment, Lance’s cheeks, too held a slight tint.

“Wanna order a pizza or something?”

“Dude, it’s almost one in the morning. There aren’t any pizza places that are going to be open.”

“I know a place.” Keith’s smirk was playful. Lance didn’t know what Keith was up to, but he was hopeful to find out.

“It’s your apartment, Keith.” He chuckled before he called in for pizza. He ordered two medium pizzas, one with Lance’s choice of toppings, and one with Keith’s. They both argued over who’s pizza toppings were better. Lance won, of course, his ability to argue was simply unparalleled. It helped to have grown up with many siblings.

With a subtle knock on the door, the pizza was here. “You know, Keith, I’m getting real fucking tired of you ordering pizza in the early ass hours of the morning - oh, hi. You’re not Keith.”

“No, uh, he’s in the bathroom. How much do we owe you?”

“Twenty-two fifty. Who are you?”

“I’m Lance, uh. I’m Keith’s friend, I guess.” Lance scratched the back of his head before going to his jacket pocket and grabbing out twenty three. “Keep the change.”

“Here’s your pizzas. Who got the fucking pineapple anyways?”

“Pineapple isn’t bad if you’d just try it. Keith said the same thing.”

“‘Cause he’s got a brain!” Keith came out while the pizza delivery person and Lance were arguing. Keith had Elias on his hip, Elias’ head tucked into the crook of his neck. “Keith, please tell me Lance didn’t get pineapples on his pizza.”

“He did. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was dead set on Hawaiian, Pidge. Couldn’t do a thing about it.” He looked over to Lance. “Elias wanted some more water. I thought we’d try to feed him something while he’s up, too. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I suppose we should try.” Pidge and Keith talked a bit before Keith finally sent her away. 

“Is Pidge a friend of yours?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since college.”

“College? She looks about twelve.”

“She’s a genius, pretty much. But she’s not twelve. She’s seventeen, almost eighteen.” Lance stared in shock, but soon snapped out of it to help cut up Elias’ pizza. He enjoyed Hawaiian, just like Lance. “Do you have any fights lined up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a match against Lotor in a few weeks. Supposed to be the biggest fight of the year, apparently. I’ve been getting messages all day from people at the gym telling me I’ve got no chance, or that I should give up now. Lotor’s not even that good.” Lance spoke, putting the pieces of pizza into Elias’ mouth with the fork.

“Lotor? Like Galra Incorporated Lotor?”

“Yeah. Altea has a charity event coming up and they’ve been invited. I told Allura it was a bad idea, but she insists on fixing the past.” Keith wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t ask. “I wonder if we can clash the fight and the charity event. Bring in a bunch of people to donate money.”

“Can I go back to bed now, Daddy?”

“Yeah, Ellie, of course. Want me to help you?”

“No, I can do it. Thanks.” Lance helped Elias down from his lap, kissing him on the head before smiling as he walked away.

“That would be a really good idea, but I don’t think Allura would like that idea all that much.” They both laughed, knowing full well Allura would probably have a heart attack. “Is the charity event before or after your fight with Lotor?”

“It’s a week before.”

“That’s convenient.” Keith mumbled, but Lance caught it. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Lotor might… try something then. He’s… a sneaky little rat. But his fighting skills are absolute shit. The only thing he does well is shit talks.” Keith spoke, taking a bite from his pizza. Lance silently agreed, an idea slithering into his mind. 

“Did you maybe, uh, I don’t know, want to train with me? You don’t have to, of course, I just thought I’d offer. You seem to know a lot about Lotor’s fighting skills.” Lance spoke, taking a drink from the glass of water he had gotten Elias.

“No, you’re fine. I’ll help you train and stuff. We just have to find a time where neither of us work. I think I only work nights this week. Does that work for you at all?”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can find a day that’ll work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was chapter three!! we’ve finally met pidge! pidge will have female pronouns, and she will be included more into the story, i promise. and thank you to those who’ve left kudos and comments! as well as to those who’ve read the war. it means a lot, so thank you.


	4. the not date.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the charity event gradually getting closer, as well and Lance's fight with Lotor, Lance needs to get physical and start training to beat him. When he brings along a certain raven haired boy, he asks him an important question. Ending his day with a picnic with his best friend, Lance begins to realize some very crucial things about himself and his relationship with Keith.

“Don’t let the devil fool you! Unless he’s handsome.” - Ljupka Cvetanova,  _ The New Land _ .

***

Keith usually wasn’t one to wake up early if he didn’t have to. However, today was different. He was going to train with Lance today. They had decided to run five miles as a warm up and then end at the gym. Keith hadn’t ran since college. Like,  _ ran _ , ran. When he was in college, going through the motions everyday, he was on the track team, as well as cross country.

It wasn’t a date. It most certainly, definitely,  _ positively was not _ a date. But it felt like it. The nerves hiding beneath his skin as his hands became slightly clammy had made it feel like this was their first date. Keith wanted to start pacing, think of excuses to go back to his apartment, anything to simply get out of this.   
  
  


**TO: LANCE**

Make sure you meet me at the park. I’m having Shiro take our things to the gym if that’s okay. Don’t forget to bring a water bottle.

**FROM: LANCE**   
I know what to bring, nurse boy. This isn’t my first rodeo.

  
  


His face heated. He knew Lance was just joking around, but it still felt like flirting, but maybe he was reading the signs wrong. Shaking the thought out of his head, he noticed Lance approaching. Lance had jogged towards Keith, slight smirk on his face. Keith started stretching, making sure all of his muscles were ready to endure what he was about to put them through. He prayed his muscles remembered how to run like he used to.

Shiro pulled up beside them, laughing at Keith’s slight uncomfortableness. It was a rare occasion to see Keith uncomfortable, if Shiro could take a picture he would. “Throw your shit in the back. You’ll find it in the locker room by your locker.”

“Thanks, Shiro.”

“No problem.” Shiro spoke, putting his sunglasses over his eyes. “Oh and Lance? Go easy on him, he hasn’t ran five miles since college.”

Once Shiro drove away, Keith’s face had finally cooled down. All the blood returning to its normal spot. “There’s so much to learn about you, Nurse Boy.”

“Shut up and let’s run, McClain.”  _ This isn’t a date _ , Keith reminded himself. Both of them had already stretched, Keith thrown their bags in the back once he was done. Now that they had started, Keith was sure he was going to beat Lance’s ass at this. His legs had, thankfully, remembered the good old days back in cross country. The wind in his hair felt wonderful, it reminded him of the nights where his team would be singing along to the absolute shittiest songs, having the best time. “What? Can’t keep up?”

“Oh, bite me, nurse boy!” Lance spoke, his cheeks a slightly demanding red. Keith’s chuckle lit up Lance’s ears, heating to a dull pink. The nervousness Keith had once before had melted away, turning into a different emotion. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but all he knew was that it was a good feeling. He liked it.

“Is that a request or demand?” With that question Lance and Keith both decided to push harder, run faster, run farther. It was merely banter, Keith had thought, but the undertones of it did hint at something more - something playful.

Whether or not Keith was serious would remain a mystery so long as nobody brought it up.

Around mile two, Keith looked over at Lance and noticed how sweaty he had become. His shirt had begun to stick to his body. He had to look away. He didn’t want Lance to notice how much he was staring. He tried his hardest to focus on the ground below him, the way his feet hit the pavement. Halfway into the second mile, Lance asked for a drink break. “I didn’t know you could run so well. What did you do in college that Shiro was talking about?”

“I used to run cross country and track. I loved running. It was kind of an escape for me.”

“Why d’ya say that?” Lance breathed heavily, chugging half of his water bottle down before breathing again. Keith also drank, taking the time to formulate an answer that didn’t peer too much into his personal life, as well as his past.

“I used to get out of doing homework most days, I guess. Plus, it distracted me from whatever the hell was going on with my family.” Lance knew what that was like, family problems. They were all too familiar. “I just worried about finishing the race when I was running. That was it. Nothing else.”

“Sounds like you’ve missed it.”

“Yeah. Probably more than I should.” Keith laughed slightly, shoulders rising for a split second. Silence settled between the two before they finished the rest of their miles. Lance ran right next to Keith, occasionally their elbows brushing. It lit a fire underneath Lance’s skin, but he chalked that up to be purely the sheer amount of body heat both of them were producing.

“My fucking insides hurt. I can’t even feel my legs.” Lance complained, laying flat on the ground of the gym. Keith laughed at him, grabbing an extra pair of gloves from the bin. Shiro always made sure to sanitize them three times before putting them back out again. “How did you do this all time? Especially in college! I thought college kids were supposed to eat like shit and survive off of ramen noodles alone.”

“I had Shiro to take care of me. I lived on campus, but Shiro lived, like, a block away. He’d always bring me extras from he and Adam’s dinners some nights. Usually it was a lot of fucking food. I just needed a microwave and I was set. Helps having Shiro and Adam.” Keith admitted, stretching out his arm muscles before focusing on his back.  _ This isn’t a date. _

“Where do you wanna start first?”

“Aren’t I supposed to ask you that? I mean, you’re the boxer here.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you today, nurse boy. Is it just me or do you naturally have a smart mouth?”  _ You have no idea _ , Keith thought, ears flushing a violent pink,  _ what my mouth is capable of. _

“It’s probably just you.” Keith smirked at his reply, thinking he had gotten the last word in.

“Good to know I bring out the worst in you, Keith.” He pushed past Keith, his shoulder brushing against his before he started to head off to the locker room. “We’re starting on the bags. We’ll finish by sparring. Is that alright with you, nurse boy?”

“Fuck off.” Keith could hear Lance’s laughter from the bathroom. He wrapped himself up, thanking med school for helping with his ambidextrous ways. Once he had put on the wraps, he waited for Lance.

When Lance has finally emerged from the bathroom, Keith was staring. Lance had waltzed out, hands wrapped in perfectly white tape, that would soon be turned by sweat, black basketball shorts contrasting with his olive skin, and absolutely no shirt. Keith’s mouth had dropped open, but quickly shut before Lance could notice. “You ever boxed before, nurse boy?”

“Do you not remember who I’m related to?” He joked, walking over to the bags with Lance. He let Lance start out first, watching the way he dialed in on his work ethic. He noticed when Lance had begun to sweat. And that was his queue to actually start punching the bag.

Now it was Lance’s turn to admire Keith. He had finished his first set, grabbing a towel to wipe away all the sweat that had built up on his hairline. He breathed heavily, drinking more water, watching Keith. His hair that had flowed into a mullet had been put into a low ponytail. He didn’t say anything, but waited for Keith to finish.  _ This isn’t a date. _ “Wanna take a break before sparring or?”

“I’m good if you are.” Keith admitted, cracking the knuckles in his hands subconsciously. 

“I can’t wait to kick your ass, nurse boy.” Lance soon ate his words. He didn’t expect Keith to be so… good. His stance was perfect, form was solid and his hands never strayed far from his face when blocking. However, the form soon loosened and the pair ended up wrestling. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?”

“I was a wrestler in high school.” Keith’s straight face made Lance believe he was telling the truth.

“Were you really?”

“No.”

“Man, fuck you.” Keith helped him up, offering his hand to Lance. Lance took this opportunity to get Keith to the ground, pulling him down onto the mat. Keith hit the floor with a groan. He got on top of Keith, legs pinning down his arms, dick not too far from Keith’s face.

Keith stopped resisting after a moment, finding it useless to try to pry him off with his arms. His legs, however, came in handy. He tried his best to gently kick Lance’s sides, hoping to tickle him at best. Once Lance had toppled over, arms protecting his sides as tears started to fall from his eyes.

Keith regained his spot on top, attacking Lance with his fingers anywhere he could get them. Lance’s sides, armpits, neck, anywhere that seemed ticklish. “Okay! Okay! I give, I give.”

Keith got off of Lance, walking over to his water bottle before watching Lance disappear into the bathroom, probably to piss after what he just did to him. He exhaled laughter a bit, a little water dripping from his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He waited for Lance to come back from the bathroom, tossing him a towel for his hair.  _ This isn’t a date. _

“You look like you need a shower.” Lance joked, laughing at how sweaty Keith had become. Lance was sweaty, too, but it didn’t just pool at the forehead and look super hot against his chest. His hair was absolutely drenched, shorts somewhat drenched from all the sweat from his ass and his back.

“Coming from.” The banter between the boys hadn’t died down while Keith was drying off his chest and his forehead. It was quiet before Lance spoke up, asking Keith a question.

“Hey, would you maybe want to come to a charity event with me?” Lance scratching the back of his neck, his other hand occupying his hip. “You don’t have to, I just figured I’d repay you for letting Elias and I stay with you the other night.”

“Is it a black tie event?” Keith asked, drying off his hair. He saw Lance nod out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. I’ll go, I’d love to.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“A date huh?” Keith smirked.

“I mean, not if you don’t want it to be. I just-” He was cut off by Keith, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind it being a date.”  _ He was going on a date with Lance _ .

***

It didn’t take long for Lance to find the park Hunk had texted him to meet at. Once he got there, he set Elias off on his own, watching from a park bench, sitting next to Hunk. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Allura came by the other day, tried out a lot of our food with Coran and loved it. We’re catering for the charity event they’re hosting. I’m really excited.”

“You should be! I told Allura she’d love your food.” Lance smiled, bumping his shoulder against Hunk’s. He watched the way Elias played with Hunk’s twins, Shay accompanying them. “How’re your girls?”

“Oh, they’re good. Aster seems to think she has a boyfriend at the daycare center. I told her she couldn’t date until she was thirty. She cried.” Hunk and Lance shared the laughter, which resulted in Lance divulging a story about Elias’ own share of girlfriends and boyfriends.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, what’re best friends for?” It seemed like such a silly question. They had been best friends for years, Lance had never asked if he could tell Hunk something. It wasn’t  _ them _ . Lance always overshared, but it was always welcome.

“I met someone.”

“Really?! What’s her name?” A smile rose on Hunk’s face.

“His name’s Keith.” Hunk wasn’t shocked, Lance did confess his bisexuality early on in their friendship, but he hadn’t heard him talk about any boyfriends or ex-boyfriends before. “Nothing’s happening yet. I mean, we’ve been hanging out a bit. I asked him to go with me to the charity event Allura’s throwing.”

“Lance, that’s amazing! Why don’t you seem too enthusiastic about it?”

“I just - I’m worried what might happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m afraid Keith will leave like the rest of them. Like, he’ll leave eventually.” Lance spoke, heart heavy with sorrow. The lump in his throat begins to grow the more he tries to explain to Hunk.

“Did you tell him about your family? Has he met Elias?” Hunk asked, to which Lance replied with a nod of his head. “And he still hasn’t left? Then you have nothing to worry about. If he wanted to leave, he would’ve by now, Lance, you know that.”

“I know I’m being paranoid. I just,” he broke his sentence with a heavy sigh. “I actually like him, you know? I want to be sure I won’t fuck it up. I always seem to do something.”

“Lance, it’s never you. Those other girls, they couldn’t handle you. They chose to leave, you did absolutely nothing wrong.”

“Thanks, Hunk. I wish more people in the world could be like you.” Hunk chuckled, leaning his head down on Lance’s, whose head was on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, cracking jokes and talking about future schooling options, carpooling, the works.

“Do I have to worry about you stealing my man, Mr. McClain?” Shay asked, the kids clumsily running behind her, playing a game of tag.

“Of course not, Shay. I’m just trying to get some mojo shrimp out of him.” Lance shot a wink in Shay’s direction before covering his mouth to laugh. Shay pulled a picnic basket from the ground, offering the little ones some sandwiches.

“Would you like one, too? I made a ton of extras.” She asked, holding out a ham and cheese sandwich towards Lance. He smiled, grabbing one before muttering out a thank you to Shay. “You’re really hungry today, wow.”

“I was training with Keith. I have a meeting with Lotor in a few weeks.” Hunk had heard a little about it, not telling Shay since she wasn’t too fond of boxing. Hunk wasn’t a big fan either, but that’s where he got his start. At the cusp end of college, he found someone to take him in so he could provide food for their patrons. It was perfect because Lance started working there, too, just in a different aspect.

“Keith, huh?” Shay smirked, an influx of blood rushing to Lance’s cheeks with the mention of the other boys name. “Who’s Keith?”

“Lance’s new boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a friend.”

“For now.” Lance shoved Hunk, not too hard, but just enough to get his point across. Laughter echoed from the park bench, radiating towards the sun. Lance giggled along quietly, smile evident on his face.

“Shut up, you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow an actual chapter summary?? who am i??? and happy thursday! well, it’s almost friday here but anyways!! have a happy day. i popped this baby out in a few days, not going to lie. i has fun writing this. now chapter five is going to quite a ride. stay tuned! xx

**Author's Note:**

> I know it seems like Keith and Lance aren't really Keith and Lance, but I promise it gets better. Oh, and as a side note, this is my first ever Klance fanfiction. I'm really trying here, so thank you for reading. I have a tumblr and an instagram, they are both @angellnce. I reblog Voltron things sometimes, usually textposts that are "relatable". On Instagram, I'll begin to post something on there. I don't even know. And hey, don't ever be afraid to start a conversation! I'm really nice, I promise. Again, thank you for reading. It does mean a lot to me.
> 
> As for the number of chapters, I'm shooting for seventeen, but I'm not entirely sure yet. I hope to hit that though. Enjoy the rest of Keith and Lance's paths unfold and stay tuned for chapter two!
> 
> ⇾ livvy


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